Endymion Curse
by maaldas
Summary: To sum it all up, there is always a dark aspect in every fairy tale including the Sleeping Beauty lore. Angels know that the Winchester boys share a profound bond. When this knowledge fall into Sam's hand, imagine what he'll do to save his brother from Hell. Introducing a cherub, soul binding spell, main character under a curse and demon Ruby in different meat suits. Wincest
1. Prologue

AN: This is posted at my livejournal for the samdean_otp minibang. This is my first time writing for minibang so, I'm quite proud of it. This is kink!fic so there are several warning here before you read. Such as: **  
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**Warning: Somnophilia kink, Rape scene (if you want to see it that way), graphic torture, gore, blood spell, binding curse. I seriously encourage not to read this if it bothers you. You've been warned. **

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**Prologue**

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_Then,_

It was now or never. Sam knew he did not have much time if he wanted to save his brother. Ruby had clearly shown her true face by telling Sam all that bullshit about saving Dean's soul then bailing out in the last hours. She had clearly made up that excuse about not having enough time to train him. Sam guessed the cherub was right after all and cherubim could not lie.

Dean saw the hellhounds, two of them, snarling and growling at him and that spurred them on to make a dash through the house ending up in a drawing room. Dean had run ahead with Ruby close at his heels and Sam at the rear. Just as Dean opened the door to the drawing room Sam reached out and grabbed Ruby's collar and shoved her down. He cleared the door, slammed it closed and held it while Dean put down the goofer dust. The hounds pounded on the door but could not get in.

"Dude…" Dean looked at him with astonishment clear in his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, I'd say it's about time you ditched that bitch but I got to ask, why now?"

"You said it yourself, Dean, we never should have trusted a demon. Demons lie," said Sam with a serious face. "Here, hold this!"

After giving Dean Ruby's knife, Sam started to set up the room. He shoved the table and chairs into the corner before pulling out a leather pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket while Dean stood guard near the door. He could hear the hounds growling on the other side, trying to break the door down to get inside.

"Sam, what are you doing? Are you gonna put me in a circle of goofer dust? You know that's not gonna hold them for long," said Dean over his shoulder, looking at Sam wearily.

Sam was in the middle of pouring a white shiny powder from the leather pouch onto the floor making a wide circle when he heard Dean step closer to him.

Sam looked up at him and noticed his brother's familiar questioning frown and said, "It's not goofer dust."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"It's salt and pearl," Sam continued as if Dean had never interrupted him.

"Salt and …" Dean went blank and his head tilted in confusion. "Salt and pearl? What the hell is that for?"

Instead of answering Dean's question, Sam just completed his circle.

"Sam, what ritual are you doing?" Dean asked again. His tone was hard and demanding. Sam could imagine that Dean was gritting his teeth but he still did not answer him. He continued pouring the pearly salt on the floor mumbling the spell under his breath. It had to be done perfectly and Sam only had one chance before the hellhounds broke in. He knew the goofer dust wouldn't last.

"Sam, I told you nothing can break me out of my deal and if I do, you'll be dead! That's part of the deal."

"You'll be dead soon anyway. You have no say in this whatsoever," said Sam as he put away the empty pouch and took out his pocket knife. "Dean, get in the circle!"

Dean hesitated for a moment, eyeing the pearly white circle with distrust, "not unless you tell me what ritual is this."

"We don't have time, Dean. The hounds are behind you. Get. In. Now!"

Sam's face was hard and his jaw was squared stubbornly. Dean looked at the rattling door behind him for a second and when he looked back at Sam he saw that his brother has the knife pressed up against his neck.

"Whoa whoa, Sam!"

"You are not leaving me, Dean. Get in the circle now or I swear I'll slit my own throat and follow you to hell," Sam threatened as blood slowly trickled down his throat where the blade cut into his skin.

"Alright! Alright! I'm getting in."

Dean lifted up both hands to placate Sam and stepped inside the circle carefully. Sam followed him a second later then he put the knife to his left palm and sliced his skin open. He dripped his blood onto the pearl and salt powder making another circle while the spell poured readily from his lips. Smoke rose up from where his blood met the powder. When he'd finished, the powder got shinier and emitted eerie vapors that filled the air inside the circle with white fog. Sam ended his spell by touching Dean's throat with his bloody palm. Then, he took two steps back within the circle.

The door finally broke and Ruby strolled in.

"Hello Sam," greeted the demon, smiling at him as her eyes rolled white. "That wasn't nice what you did back there. You think your little trick can hold me back?"

"Took you long enough," Sam said, turning away from his brother to face her. Once he stood face to face with the demon, Sam knew there was something different about her. "You're not Ruby."

"Oh, don't worry about her. She's back in the gutter where she belongs and I'm here now," said the demon with a rough voice. It was different to the voice that Ruby used, deeper and huskier. "Time to get down to business."

"Not after I'm done with my business," said Sam confidently, standing tall in front of Dean with his head held high. This was the demon that held the contract of Dean's deal. This was Lilith.

Lilith chanced a look behind Sam and her eyes turned round in surprise. A pleased smirk slowly formed on her lips. "Getting the job done for me, I see?"

"What's happening to me? ... Sam?" called out Dean in panic which made Sam turn around back to look at him.

There were two Deans stood in front of Sam right now. The panicking one was standing in the middle of the circle looking down at his now transparent form in confusion and a little bit of fear. He then looked at Sam questioningly while Lilith was laughing outside the circle. His solid form just stood there quietly looking ahead like a statue.

"You follow me," whispered Sam in elation and awe. "It's your soul Dean. Don't worry, she can't get you while you're in the circle. It's a pure magic even Demons as powerful as her can't do anything about as long as stands."

"Oh, don't bet on that, stupid. You don't know who I am," Lilith growled behind Sam, her hounds barking loudly and clawing the floor outside the circle, leaving scratch marks on the wooden floor.

Lilith lifted up her palm towards them but nothing happened. She glared at Sam furiously before walking around the circle scowling at the pearly white powder looking for a crack but the spell held strong.

Sam realized that she would not be able to get to them until he finished the spell. He knew he could not botch Dean's deal. Dean had to go to hell to pay his due but that did not mean he had to be there forever. Dean would only see hell for a second if Sam could help it and Sam would surely follow his brother down there if he could not pull him back up. That was why he needed this spell. Sam needed to mark his brother's soul and bind him to his own soul so that when he activated the second part of the ritual, the spell would be able to find Dean's soul and pull him back to Sam then Sam would put his soul back into his body. Well, that was the plan anyway. The success of this plan was still to be proven.

Sam wasted no time and he approached his Dean's body, ignoring the way Dean's soul was looking on his every move, curious as to what he was up to now. The spell could hold the demon for as long as Sam kept the circle intact and only the caster could disrupt the circle, yet Sam had no intention of staying in that house forever. He lifted his right hand to Dean's cheek. He rubbed it lovingly with sad and soulful eyes for a moment before he closed the gap between them and touched his lips to Dean's.

"Oh, Sam, you kinky bastard! If I'd known you'd got the hots for your brother I'd have done things differently," said Lilith, taunting him with a lopsided smirk and a gleam in her eyes.

Sam ignored her. His sole attention was on his brother. Dean's body didn't react to his touch. He never even blinked when Sam kissed him but Sam heard an intake of breath from behind him and he knew Dean's soul had felt something. Sam knew the spell had put its mark on Dean's soul because he felt the faint pull from behind him. He turned his head around to look into his soul from over his shoulder. It seemed to be staring back at him. It looked taken aback at Sam's actions. Sam guessed that Dean had never thought he'd kiss him like that.

Dean looked at him in wonder while Sam only sent watery smile back at him. There was something in Dean's eyes as if he was considering some action but Sam had no time to decipher the look. This situation was already becoming more surreal with every second that passed. Sam's eyes were getting misty with unshed tears; eyes that held a thousand words that he wished to say but could not get passed his throat.

There was a smell of something burning in the air around them. The pearly salt powder was burning up signaling the end of the spell. Dean's body swayed dangerously but Sam caught him in his arms the moment he went limp. Dean's soul hovered behind him while Sam lowered his body to the floor.

"Is my body ok?"

"You're alright Dean, it's just the spell."

"Don't mean to burst your bubble Sam, but your spell is weakening," Lilith said, grinning at him. "You're coming home with my boys, Dean."

It was not only her who got excited; the hounds were growling anew. Dean's eyes followed them as they were circling outside the burning powder. Sam too heard the clicking of their nails on the floor.

"Go ahead, I just need his body intact," said Sam dispassionately, still kneeling on the floor beside Dean's body.

"What a nice brother you are! See, Dean? You don't have to worry. You can have fun in hell while I have fun with Sam. I am going to enjoy ripping his throat out and feeding his blood to my hounds. I'll send him to you when I am done."

"Quit yapping you bitch! Just take me and leave my brother alone," shouted Dean enraged.

"Oh, I will take both of you."

"And then what? Take over the world and become queen bitch?"

"You're cute. I'll let you be my bitch after hell breaks you. Your job will be only to please me," Lilith purred as she looked at Dean like he was her new toy. Sam shivered. He did not want to imagine what Lilith would do in hell when she got her hands on Dean. It was too late now; the spell had latched onto Dean. Sam could only hope he was fast enough to get Dean out of there.

Dean sneered at her and stood between the demon and Sam in a futile effort to protect him, Sam thought. Dean glanced worriedly at the rapidly blackening powder around them before he caught Sam's eyes.

"I'll get you back. I promise," Sam vowed to his brother.

"Sammy…" Dean could only look at him with a sad smile like he did not really believe it but wanted to indulge his little brother one last time. Sam could see love reflected in his teary eyes. It felt like the strongest emotion he showed Sam in all of their lives. There were so many things to say, but too little time.

Sam's skill had been proven so far. The spell had worked and Dean hadn't dropped dead like a sack of rotten meat. He'd been right. As long as Dean went to hell, the deal would be upheld. There was nothing stated in the contract about what happened after he went to hell. Sam had found a loophole.

Lilith looked at the blackening powder on the floor, grinning. She wiped it away with her power, stripping them off its protection. "Gotcha!"

White light came from Lilith's outstretched hand. A powerful force hit Sam full blast and he could only crouch down protecting his Dean's body from it. He thought he was a goner and that Lilith had finally got what she had come for, killing him and taking Dean's soul to hell but when he opened his eyes, he found himself still laying on top of Dean, no worse for wear and still breathing. Yet, he knew that the hounds had torn Dean's soul apart leaving only Sam and a soulless body lying prone on the hard cold floor.

Lilith looked down at her hands in shock while Sam patted down his body. Sam then checked Dean's body for a pulse and breathed out in relief when he found it steady. He looked at Lilith only to see the dumbfounded expression on her face when she realized that her power had failed to kill him. Sam quickly scanned the floor for Ruby's knife and found it near Dean's feet.

"What's a matter bitch? Can't get it up?" taunted Sam as he snatched the knife off the floor and stepped closer to her, pleased to see fear forming in her eyes.

"Back!" Lilith thrust out her hand at Sam's chest with no effect. "Get Back!"

"I don't think so."

Sam lifted up the knife high in the air to stab her but the demon bolted in a cloud of black smoke out of its host, up to the ceiling and out through a vent. Sam gritted his teeth, seething but then he remembered that he had more important things to do. He hastily gathered his brother in his arms and hauled him up from the floor. He met Bobby outside the house who said that the rest of the demons bolted as soon as the white light that had shone from inside the house snuffed out a couple of minutes ago. He bundled his brother inside the impala and drove away as fast as he could with Bobby's truck behind.

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Please review :-D Many thanks!


	2. First Level: Prepare the Brewing Ingredi

**First Level: Prepare the Brewing Ingredients**

_._

_Two years later,_

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Sam woke up beside his ever sleeping brother. He rolled over onto his left and stared quietly for over half an hour at the still form beside him. Then, he slowly rose up on his left elbow to hover over his Dean's body, arm around his chest.

"Good morning, Dean."

He gave his brother a kiss on his right cheek and a chaste one on his lips and waited for a few moments whilst his eyes roamed over his big brother's delicate feature. When nothing happened he let out a resigned sigh and climbed out of bed. He supposed it did not work like in the stories. The princess awoken from a deep sleep by only a kiss. Why couldn't Dean? Granted, Dean was no princess but the spell had worked. Sam just didn't know where he'd gone wrong. He sealed it with a kiss; shouldn't he have been able to end it with one too?

Sam continued with his daily routine of morning run through the woods, showering, making coffee and breakfast. He went back into the room he shared with Dean to check on him. It was time to change the bed sheets and to give Dean his daily massage. It was not really necessary actually, but Sam loved doing it. The doctor had told him to treat Dean just like a sleeping person, but without awareness. It was odd to see him sleeping for this long without eating but then again there was magic at work here, ancient and very powerful magic, so he thought he shouldn't be surprised. After all, demons existed as well as angels.

"Alright, Dean, I'm gonna change the bed so I'll need you to move …" Sam lifted Dean's body on one side, rubbing his back for thirty seconds before pulling the sheet from under him. He stripped the rest of the bedding before taking it to the kitchen to put the wash on. He returned with fresh linen and made the bed, turning Dean's body onto his other side. He flopped on the bed beside Dean's back and laid his head on his brother's temple, curling his arm around Dean's waist.

"So, what d'you wanna do today?" asked Sam conversationally. "I already put the laundry in the washing machine, so we could either make some pancakes with syrup or just have scrambled eggs and sausages. Bobby sent provisions the other day, enough to feed an army for a week, or just you for a couple of days. Seriously, dude you need to watch your weight or you'll get flabby with lying around all day like this." Sam poked Dean's stomach, still as hard and flat as usual.

"Hey, d'you wanna take a bath? Are you smelly?" Sam sniffed Dean's neck and armpits. "Naah, you're okay. How many days ago did you shave, anyway?" asked Sam as he rubbed Dean's cheek with the back of his hand. Then he counted his fingers in front of Dean's face, telling his brother what he wanted to do today. "Let's start with changing your clothes first, then sponge bath, you love that, don't you?" he chuckled briefly. "Then, I'll see what I can do for breakfast today. No complaining! You can cook it yourself if you don't like what I make. I'll be right back." He planted a kiss on Dean's temple before jumping off the bed, and sauntering back to the kitchen to check on the washing machine.

Sam did this every day, making casual conversation with his brother as if he was awake and could reply him. He figured he needed to do this if only for the sake of his own sanity. Living in seclusion with only a passive person as company could drive a man crazy. It's been two years, but Dean's condition hadn't changed. Sam had almost lost hope. The only thing that had prevented him from going off the deep end was the ever present pull of his soul which steadily increased in its intensity every day. It was subtle at first, nothing but a tingle in his chest but it intensified the more Sam touched his brother until he could not ignore it any longer. It had become an unscratched itch, a tug that Sam felt deep in his own soul. Several times in the last six months he'd woken up feeling horny and had unconsciously rubbing himself on Dean.

The first time it had happened he had been mortified and had rolled off the bed hitting the floor hard in his haste to get away from Dean. But when it happened again the next day and next and the next, Sam had no choice but to give in. Usually, he'd just go to the bathroom whenever the urge came on but it was only ever Dean's image and smell that he thought about.

Theoretically, Sam knew it was the curse; that his soul was calling out to Dean's soul. It was basically how he knew that the curse had worked at all, and that he had succeeded in saving Dean from hellfire. But he was also ashamed about the affect it was having on him; increasing his sexual craving for his brother. Even thinking about it made him want to hide in the deepest hole in the ground. Perhaps it was him who should be in hell instead of Dean.

Sam spent the rest of the day in his living room turned office researching. Usually he would stop at noon for a while to make a meager lunch or forgo it completely to continue researching, occasionally checking up on Dean until the night rolled around and he was half only awake over his work table. When he could no longer stay awake he shuffled down to the bedroom and fell asleep curled up beside Dean. He could not help but entertain the thought that someday Dean would wake up because of his kisses. So he planted a kiss on Dean's lips every night before going to sleep and every morning when he woke up, wishing that his brother would wake up and call him a girl for it. So far it hadn't happened but it was not for lack of trying.

Tonight, instead of going straight to dreamland, Sam stayed awake. He lay down beside Dean with both hands behind his head and eyes staring up to the grey ceiling. He had started the research on this spell after their second meeting with the Trickster. He was desperate back then, at the end of his rope and would grab at anything, anything at all that gave even a hint of how to save his brother. Sam remembered the trickster's exact words after he'd played Sam for a fool for over six months. After all his energy had burned out and desperation was the only emotion left, Sam could still remember it clearly.

_Abandoned warehouse, two and half years ago,_

"You think you can save your brother? Save his soul from damnation?" asked the Trickster. "Do you even know what a soul is Sam?"

Sam said nothing. What could he possibly say to the Trickster, anyway? He just wanted his brother back, damn it! He would plead, beg and grovel if it brought him Dean back. He would sell his own soul if needs be because Dean was not the only one who could sell his soul. Dean did not get to be self-sacrificing while Sam lived alone and miserable in this unforgiving world.

"Perhaps you should read up on it, and see what you are dealing with here."

He had latched onto The Trickster's words so tightly, questioning the truthfulness of the advice that there was no way back from damnation. What did Sam know about the soul? Nothing. Besides the generic knowledge that Pastor Jim had drilled into them when they were young, he knew nothing. He knew that their souls only had a choice of two destinations when they died, either up to heaven or down to hell, but nothing of its entity, of its purpose, or its essence that made us human.

For the first time in months, Sam had found a new direction for his research. Instead of finding a way to break Dean's deal he studied souls. As he luxuriated in the return of his brother, Sam threw himself wholeheartedly into his study. If he could have, Sam would have spent the whole week after their last meeting with the Trickster hugging Dean in his arms. Sadly Dean had never been the touchy feely type. Sam took his fill by looking at him instead. He hovered and fussed and never let Dean out of his sight for longer than a few seconds. Of course, it freaked Dean the fuck out but even Dean couldn't win when Sam bombarded him with his lethal puppy dog eyes and soulful expression.

After the incident of Lilith's jail demolition in her hissy fit, Sam had left his brother moping alone in their motel room. Dean had paid him no mind. Sam even suspected that Dean had been kind of relieved that finally Sam had stopped hovering around him like a lost puppy. Sam rolled his eyes at the thought. If only Dean knew the state he'd been in during the six months that he'd been gone under the Trickster's spell. But Dean did not know that. Dean hadn't even lasted a day before he'd crawled off to a crossroads demon to bring Sam back to life. As hard as living without each other was, Dean had never lived without Sam in the same way he'd spent those six miserable months without Dean. Even when Sam was in Stanford, Dean was only a phone call away, not dead.

Sam's study had brought him to binding rituals but the information was vague at best and the book where he'd found the ritual did not go into the details. It just stated that the binding ritual was very dangerous and should only be attempted as a last resort. It involved marking a soul and the few beings that could do that were either high class demons or angels. Sam knew about demons and he suspected that the Crossroads Demon had put a mark on Dean's soul to validate the contract. It was high level stuff and perhaps only demons with the strongest powers could manage it which made him doubt that Ruby could. She was feisty and resourceful, he'd give her that, but in the matter of power Sam was sure that Ruby was just an average demon. The more he delved into this matter, the more he doubted that Ruby could help him. This brought on suspicions about her intentions of working with them. Was Ruby just leading them on by feeding them lies and eating up Sam's desperation? Sam shoved that thought onto the back burner for the time being because he had more important things to think about.

So, demons was definitely a big 'No'. Which only left angels. Now, Sam had never met an angel before. He had also never heard of anyone who had ever met one. He did not know what an angel looked like let alone how to summon one. Well, Sam thought the situation was close to the last resort right now. He was willing to take the risk as long as he could save Dean and this binding ritual looked like the only one that could help him.

From one of his father's contacts in his journal, Sam had got the address for an old antique book shop in the middle of New York. He had begged Dean to drive him there. His brother had rolled his eyes and made a comment about Sam's geekiness but he had taken him there in the end. For a whole week, Sam had spent all his waking hours confined inside the almost dilapidated building much to Dean's exasperation. His brother had bitched and moaned at him about how bored he was. Sam had just snorted and told him to go to a bar or a striptease club or something. He was very close to finding the ritual.

One of the old, dusty books had mentioned, as if in passing, a ritual for summoning Cupid. The Romans called him Cupid, god of desire, affection and erotic love, but it had always been suspected that he was one of a kind of lesser angels. It worth a try, Sam had thought. The page had also contained a spell that the book claimed to be out of date and from a highly suspicious resource but it was something. The language was partly Latin and partly Greek and a few runes had also been drawn on the page. Sam was familiar with Latin and from his translation he could not find anything dangerous in the spell. Only a warning that the cupid could not be forced to do something that it did not want to do and should be allowed to come and go as it pleased because they were generally thought to be naive creatures, subject to mood swings.

A young, blond, naked girl who seemed only about fourteen years old had appeared in front of Sam ten seconds after he'd finished the spell. She'd immediately jumped up at Sam latching on to him tightly with her arms and legs. To say that Sam had been horrified was the understatement of the year. He had started to think he'd chanted the wrong spell but then she'd let go of him and introduced herself as a cherub.

"You're a what?"

"A cherub!" answered the cute naked girl merrily, unabashed at her nakedness. Her face then contorted in a confuse frown. "Didn't you know? You sent for me, remember?"

"You're … a lesser angel?" questioned Sam; still not buying that the whole cherub thing was real.

"Yes! Some called us cupids but you can call me whatever." Again she had answered with an excited jump before playing with her hair and dancing around the abandoned warehouse where Sam had performed his ritual, without a care in the world.

Sam had eyed her with distrust. He'd begun to think that he had summoned a loon instead of an angel. Forget about her nakedness, he'd thought, her demeanor was worrying enough. He'd started to think that she was not right in the head.

"So, … er … you can tell me about souls?" Sam had called out to her and she'd immediately stopped dancing and ran back to him. Sam had taken a couple steps back afraid of another hugging but she'd stood right in front of him instead with an eager expression on her face.

"Oh, no one ever summoned me before. I'm still young, you know. I'm not allowed to do any binding. I can only watch the older and more experienced cherubs do their jobs but I do know about souls. Yes, it's the first thing that we cherubs must learn because to bind people you have to understand about their souls. It would not do to bind an unmatched pair. We only aim for happily ever after. At least that's what they told me, anyway. I know some older cherubs carry special orders from heaven not that I know what they are, mind you, but-"

"I think that's enough," Sam had said, interrupting her mid sentence. This cherub talked at a mile a minute without taking a breath and it gave Sam a headache just listening to her.

Sam had taken a deep breath as the cherub waited patiently for him, in silence, thankfully.

"So, you know about souls." Sam had lifted his palm up to stop her from blabbering again before continuing, "I need you to tell me about mine and my brother's souls."

The cherub's features had become very bright after hearing Sam's demand. "Oh! So, you wanna know about your soul mate?" asked the cherub excitedly, blue eyes widening. Sam could only answer with a nod. "Wonderful! If only all people are like you, you know. They spend years and decades to find the right one but never ever ask us who it is. Not that they'd actually know how to summon us, you know that right? Imagine the chaos if all of them summoned us at the same time," she'd shivered in dread. "That's why we hid the spell very carefully but some humans are just too smart and resourceful. Just like you!" exclaimed the cherub, and a sudden bright smile had bloomed on her small, pink lips. "And we're actually not allowed to actively help humans but sometimes it hurts to see them suffering with in an unmatched pairing. Our orders are clear; never to be seen and nudge them as little as possible. They say humans must experience the ups and downs of romance and learn from their mistakes and…"

"Just stop! Please…" Sam had shouted at her.

The cherub's eyes had grown wider, if that was even possible. She'd looked at Sam in shock for several seconds before her bottom lip had started to tremble.

"Oh, no, no no… please don't cry!"

Her blue eyes had become watery and she'd already blinked them several times, the corners of her mouth had turned down.

"I'm sorry! Please, please don't cry," Sam had pleaded in panic. "I didn't mean to shout at you … please…"

"Why are you mean to me?" muttered the cherub in a small scared voice. She'd twirled her fingers around her curly blond hair, eyes downcast. "I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about looking for your soul mate."

"I'm sorry," he'd said in a subdued tone but something about what the cherub said had tickled his curiosity. "Wait a minute… You said I don't have to worry about finding a soul mate? … Is it …because I don't have one?"

"No, you silly!" she'd exclaimed as she'd smiled at Sam, her previous trepidation gone. Cherubs did have mood swing, Sam mused. "You've already met yours and forged a bond."

Sam's eyebrows could not have risen any higher. He had forged a bond with his soul mate? Who was the poor girl, he'd wondered. "Uh… was it … was it Jessica?"

The cherub had frowned. "Who's Jessica?"

"Jessica Moore, my girlfriend. Uh… was my girlfriend."

"Oh! She died?" the cherub had gasped loudly, blue eyes went round and sad. After Sam confirmed, she'd shaken her head sadly. "No. If she died then she's not your soul mate because your bond is still intact. Once your soul mate dies you won't be able to forge a bond with anyone else." Then, she'd continued. "Humans sometimes get it wrong. There's no such thing as a match made in heaven unless we angels make it. In fact we're the only one who can forge a permanent bond between humans. You may form a bond with another human and they'll become your soul mate but when one of you dies the bond will be shattered. Human's bond only last on earth. The marriage vow? 'Till death do us part'? It's true. Only the vow that humans are using nowadays doesn't hold any power other than just symbolic," explained the cherub with a serious nod.

Sam had stared at her in confusion. "Then who…"

"He's here. The only person that you've never parted with ever since you were kids."

"Dean?" Sam's mind had quickly jumped to the only logical answer and, really, he did not need an educated guess for that. Oh, he'd been aware of the parting when he'd left for Standford for four years but he'd left that fact out of consideration. "But… we're brothers. Are you sure you're not making a mistake?"

The cherub had looked pissed. She'd glared at Sam with her hands on her hips. "I don't make mistakes! I can clearly see his mark on your soul. I bet he has your mark as well."

Sam had stood frozen with his mouth agape in front of her, stunned and bewildered but there had been no mistaking the spark of hope that had flared deep in his heart. If he and Dean had already marked each other then, the binding ritual might work. Yes, perhaps there was a way for Sam to save Dean.

"Could you … take a look at Dean's soul? Please?"

"Why? I already told you-"

"Please!" Sam had urged but the cherub had just looked at him dispassionately. Sam had taken a deep breath before explaining, "it's just that … my brother, he's only got few months left to live and I'm at a loss as to what to do to save him."

"Is he dying?" the cherub had asked looking up at Sam curiously.

"No,… er… well, kinda." The cherub had tilted her head, looking confused. Sam had tried to find the words to explain Dean's predicament but in the end he'd opted for being blunt. "Well, … he's going to hell in a few months." There, he'd said it. "And I need to save his soul. So, could you please tell me how to do that?"

The cherub had looked at Sam quietly for few seconds before saying in a solemn voice, "Your brother had done a really bad thing, hasn't he?"

Sam had felt sad, guilty and embarrassed all at the same time because he knew the reason Dean had sold his soul was because he had died. He'd also felt anger at his brother for selling himself short like that but the anger had soon been replaced by profound guilt. He, of all people, should have known that Dean had devoted most of his life to taking care of him. It had been a natural reaction for Dean to do that, selling his soul to bring him back. Dean had never known how to care for himself. He only knew how to care for Sam. So, that day after they'd closed the Devil's gate, when they'd talked by the Impala, Sam had vowed to be the one to care for Dean from now on. After all, it was only fair.

"If his soul is destined for hell then there's nothing more I can do. I'm just a matchmaker. I read souls. Where they go when they die is not my business and I don't think there's anything to do to break a binding contract like that. And I'm sure your bond will break when he goes to hell. Only an angel forged bond could survive that."

"Just … would you please … take a look at Dean's soul? Just tell me what you see… what markings are there… Please…" Sam had begged her in his most sincere voice hoping against hope that the cherub would help him.

The cherub had whined in a high pitch tone before stomping her feet. "Why did I answer your summoning?! I hate sincere pleading!" She'd muttered a few more words under her breath that sounded like gibberish to Sam before she'd disappeared in a blink of an eye making him jump in surprise Five seconds after her departure, as he had looked around the empty and silent warehouse, she'd popped back up behind Sam startling him.

"Wh… y… you're back…"

"There are two markings on your brother's soul; yours and the demons," reported the cherub. Then her face had crumpled and tears had run down her cheeks.

"What, what is it?!" Sam had asked in alarm.

"It's just so sad. Mortal bonds are very, very rare and so extraordinarily beautiful that we aren't even allowed to tamper with them but …" her cries got louder. Her tiny fists had rubbed her wet eyes as fat tears had continued falling. "It's so sad that the demon's mark has ruined it all."

Sam had shuffled his feet awkwardly. He wasn't sure what to do to comfort the upset cherub. Not to mention that her woes reminded him of his own pain. So, Sam had had to ask. "Could you please … forge a bond between us? You know, making it permanent so that it won't break when he goes to hell."

"Why would you want that? We're always very careful when binding human's soul and then only by the order of heaven because people can go crazy. Even if I can, I won't do it."

Before Sam had had a chance open his mouth to explain, the cherub had disappeared just as abruptly as she'd come. Sam had waited for almost a minute in that abandoned warehouse before deciding that the cherub must have been too upset to come back. So, he'd packed his bag, cleaned any trace of the ritual from the ground and then driven back to the motel where he 'd left Dean sleeping off his hangover from his previous night's excursion to a strip club.

Things had been clearer for Sam after his meeting with the cherub that night. It had renewed and refreshed his purpose. He had been even more determined to find a way to save Dean's soul from hell after finding out about the mark on both their souls. Even ignoring the soul mate thing, just the fact that he and Dean had marked each other's souls had been enlightening and overwhelming at the same time. Sam would certainly rather consider this a blessing than anything else, especially, when he'd need it to save said his big brother from the fiery pit of hell.

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Please review :-D


	3. Second Level: Let It Shimmer for Two Yea

AN: Thank you for MoonlightDemoness and Grim1989** for reviewing. :-D  
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**Second Level: Let It Shimmer for Two Years**

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_Two years ago, Bobby's house, just after Sam had put a curse on Dean,…_

_._

"You're cursing your brother?!" Bobby had snapped at the Sam. Sam had just stood there with his eyes downcast. There had been exasperation in Bobby's tone and if the adrenalin hadn't still been coursing through Sam's system he might have recognized it.

"At least he's alive, Bobby," Sam had said in a small voice.

"You call that living?!"

"Well, he's still breathing and if I did it correctly I'll get his soul back."

"Did you?" Bobby had looked at him expectantly although still glowering, making Sam nervous. Bobby had sighed exasperatedly, "Did you do it correctly? When will Dean get his soul back?"

"Um,… the …uh the spell doesn't say when exactly and there was very limited mention of this curse in any of the literature…"

"And?" Bobby had nudged Sam as he 'd trailed off.

"Honestly, I … kind of … need your help with the research," Sam had confessed, sheepishly staring at his shoes.

"Did you find your answer down there?" Bobby reprimanded him sternly before sauntering to his work table grumbling about 'damn idjits'.

Sam hadn't dared to look up; he hadn't even dared to move from his spot feeling deeply chastised. He'd vaguely heard the older man slamming books on his desk. Then going to the basement, presumably to get more books, muttering "sleeping my ass" under his breath as he'd passed Sam on his way down.

Bobby had helped Sam take Dean to the upstairs bedroom. Then, they'd spent few hours arguing about Dean's condition because they were still not sure if Dean was only asleep or if the spell had put his body mechanism on hold. The spell hadn't gone into details on what to do to care for the sleeping body after the first part of the spell had been performed. The transcript that Sam had got from the professor in New Orleans hadn't been that elaborate. So the best thing they could do was wait it out and research.

"There's nothing here," Sam had sighed dejectedly as he'd thrown a thick leather bound book onto the coffee table in front of him to join a pile that was already strewn about.. Sam slumped back on the worn couch rubbing his face. "Maybe that's just it, Bobby. Perhaps the spell just put the body on hold until it got its soul back. Otherwise wouldn't the script have mentioned it?"

"Where did you get this script from anyway?" Bobby had asked curiously.

Sam had let out a long sigh before beginning his tale. "Remember when you called Dean about that guy who'd blown his head off in Ohio?" When Bobby had just looked at him glazed Sam had added, "The ghost call case that you sent Dean to check out?"

"Ah, yeah! The Crocotta!"

"I'd been meeting with a professor in New Orleans when you'd called Dean. Granted this professor hadn't known crap about the demon's deal let alone how to break one but he had a friend from Greece who had sent him a copy of a long lost transcript of … what he thought was an immortality spell. Said his friend had got it from his archeological expedition there with his wife. So…" Sam had trailed off when Bobby got a knowing look on his face. A look that he usually wore when he'd caught up with whatever insanity the boys had got themselves into, which happened at least once every three weeks.

"So, you decided to ring up this friend of the professor and what? He just sent you the copy?"

"Well, he didn't give me the copy of the original script obviously because the archeologist had managed to translate it. And, uh… he'd actually got in over his head because after he'd managed to translate the rites, he'd … tried the spell himself," said Sam slowly, averting his eyes from Bobby's probing look.

"What a damn fool!" Bobby had commented indifferently.

Sam couldn't have said it better. In the hunters' world, caution was the number one rule. You did not go into a monster's lair half cocked and unprepared. Information on what you were up against and how to kill them was very important and every hunter knew not to hunt alone if they felt they were outnumbered; back up was essential. Pride would not pay if you got chewed by a werewolf in the end. The Supernatural spoke their own language. Spells and incantations were the few things that humans could learn to understand and learn they must because the consequences could be severe if they were done incorrectly or inappropriately.

"Well, he thought he'd got all the ingredients and tools down pat but he'd forgotten one very important thing for the spell to work," Sam told Bobby reluctantly. He wasn't sure what Bobby would think about the fact that Dean and he were basically soul mates.

Bobby had raised his bushy eyebrows. "Well, what was this thing that was so important for the spell to work?"

Sam sighed and slowly revealed, "It's a soul binding spell, Bobby."

"A what?"

Sam had chanced a look at Bobby and found that his face did not look angry at all. He didn't even look slightly annoyed, just perplexed and curious. Perhaps, Bobby was still trying to grasp the connection between the spell's origin and Dean's state recently.

"You heard me," muttered Sam wearily observing Bobby's expression as he worked through the information in his head.

Bobby lifted up the brim of his cap to scratch his rapidly balding head before addressing the issue. "Let me get this straight," started Bobby carefully. "You put a soul binding spell on your brother then cursed him with a sleeping curse and he still went to hell?" When Sam's answer was only silence, Bobby took a very deep breath and tried visibly to calm himself before he snapped and throttled Sam with his bare hands.

Sam shrugged his one shoulder. "It works," said Sam defensively.

"It works? ... Then, how's the archeologist doing right now?" Bobby asked slowly as if talking to a ten year old boy.

"He never woke up. His wife, who performed the spell for him panicked and contacted the professor for help. As far as I know the man died within a month of his wife performing the spell on him…"

"…and you think Dean won't die within a month as well?" asked Bobby without missing a beat.

"No!" exclaimed Sam forcefully almost shouting at Bobby. "Because I know the spell worked for him."

"How d'you know?" Bobby kept pressing him until Sam finally blurted out.

"Because we're soul mates!"

Bobby blinked. Then, he blinked again and again. Sam thought he looked ridiculous.

"At least that's what the cherub said," Sam said in a low voice but in the deafening silence that blanketed the room he was sure that Bobby had heard him clearly.

"What cherub?" asked Bobby warily, unprepared for more craziness.

"The cherub that I summoned three months ago. They're … lesser angels."

"Angels. Now, you believe in angels?"

"What's not to believe? Pastor Jim believed in them," Sam defended himself indignantly.

"Yes, I know, but don't you think that kinda comes with the job description?"

"You believe in demons and evil, Bobby. Why don't you believe in angels as well?"

"Oh, well, when you put it like that…" Bobby shrugged his shoulders clearly dismissing the matter. Sam knew that Bobby would hit the books later to research it when he'd got time. "But, what is this soul mate thing that you talked about, boy?"

Sam let out a tired sigh. "In order for the spell to work, the caster has to be someone that has already forged a bond to the intended recipient. There is a part of the spell that talks about 'the other half', I think that is where he got it wrong. I had a feeling there was a miss interpretation in the script, so, I contacted the professor again to ask for the original copy of the spell.

"The original spell said 'adelfi psychi' which means the other half. Thinking that it must refer to his wife, he performed the spell asking her to cast it on him."

Bobby frowned. "But if the interpretation was correct why wouldn't it work then?"

"Beats me! The spell calls for the other half or soul mate of the intended recipient of the spell to be the one to perform the spell. The only explanation I could think of is perhaps his wife was not his true soul mate."

"And you think you and Dean are?" challenged Bobby.

Sam reluctantly relayed to Bobby what the cherub had revealed to him months before, about the demon's mark on Dean's soul and the fact that he and Dean had marked each other's soul for a long time. Bobby dropped his pen on the table to scratch his beard for a moment while he sent a calculating look towards Sam. Then, he steepled his fingers before addressing Sam with the most fatherly voice Sam had ever heard him use.

"Listen, Sam. You and your brother _do_ have a tangled up, crazy, twisted and co-dependent relationship with each other and I know it isn't healthy, but at least it got you this far. Yet, I would never consider you soul mates. What you did was reckless! What if you're wrong? How d'you know that it's even real? D'you actually believe there are people who are destined to be with each other and live and die together?"

"According to the cherub it's very rare but soul mates do make human bonds on earth."

"Meaning?"

"It means if one of the soul mated couple died then their bond would break unless it was forged by an angel. Then…"

"Then what?"

"Angel forged bonds are strong and if one of them died, the other would live a miserable life bordering on craziness until…"

"Until they killed themselves? Yeah, that sounds a lot like a curse to me."

Sam just shrugged because he knew that he would be beyond devastated if Dean had really died. Talk about living a miserable life, Sam would not be living, period. He would just be the shell of the man he'd been. He knew this deep in his heart even disregarding what the cherub had said about them. Even now, he felt like a huge hole had been carved out of him and the pain was horrible. The only thing that anchored him was the constant and distant pull that he'd felt ever since he'd touched his lips to Dean's. Sam wasn't sure if this was a side effect of the binding spell or not but he certainly hadn't felt like this before. It was barely there but whenever Sam got too deep into the pool of desolation and grief whenever he thought about his brother dying, whenever the pain had managed to numb everything else, there was this tug in his heart that somehow managed to pull him out of his misery. There was a push that urged him to do something, a compulsion of sorts that seemed to remind him that Dean was waiting.

They'd spent the next few days hashing out the best way to care for Dean because even though Dean's body had been put to sleep by the spell, he still needed to be taken care of. They'd found it out the hard way. When Sam had gone to check on Dean after dinner he'd noticed a damp patch around the front of his brother's jeans and promptly realized that Dean had urinated. He'd deftly stripped his jeans and proceeded to clean him up as best as he could. He'd done the job as quickly as possible because even though they'd have been living in each other pockets, it was still gross. Then, he'd stopped by the basement to chuck the soiled jeans into the dirty hamper before informing Bobby of the development.

Bobby had been quick to address the matter and had hurriedly made a few calls to some of his contacts. A middle aged doctor had come by the next day to check on Dean.

"Can we trust him?" Sam had whispered to Bobby as they stood by the wall in the guest room, watching the doctor assessing Dean.

"Rufus trusts him. You know how paranoid he is," Bobby had answered, but their eyes never left the doctor.

"I didn't ask Rufus. I asked you, Bobby. Do you trust him?" he'd asked again, raising his voice to a hiss.

Bobby had just stared at him exasperated and Sam had pursed his lips stubbornly. He didn't really know Rufus except from what Dean told him, so it didn't matter what Rufus said, Sam needed Bobby's opinion.

"Yes, I trust him. He's a hunter friendly doctor that has saved many hunters lives including your father's," Bobby had answered. "Satisfied?"

Sam had studied Bobby's eyes and nodded his head after he saw assurance in there. He knew that his father was not an easy man to get along with, John Winchester was a paranoid hunter and he would not trust just anyone.

The doctor finally finished his assessment and had already packed his bag. He stood up and approached Bobby and Sam.

"Well, all of his vitals are functioning. If I didn't know better I'd say that he was just sleeping and would wake up in a couple of hours. What did you say the curse was again?" Sam had hesitated. He was not sure what he should tell this man because he didn't really have anything much to go on but Bobby beat him to it.

"Some old stuff, very powerful."

"I see…"

The doctor had nodded his head few times. He didn't seem very surprised. Sam guessed he was probably used to the weirdness around the hunting world and the supernatural.

"For the time being, there's nothing we should do for him."

"But he was pissing his pants. Won't he need … food?" Sam had asked agitatedly switching his legs from right to left and folding his arms in front of his chest.

"He's not in a coma. He's just sleeping," the doctor had said. "I think we just wait and see for now. Let's wait a few days. Who knows what this curse is doing to your brother's body." Then, he'd turned to Bobby and asked, "you sure you couldn't find anything on this particular curse? Lore or any description on what it is supposed to do to the cursed body?"

Bobby shrugged and shook his head. "We just know that it was a kind of a sleeping curse. The spell is too old and a too well guarded a secret. There's not much information other than there should be a reversal spell somewhere."

The doctor had heaved a heavy sigh and looked pointedly at Sam. "I need you to monitor his body, check his pulse rate, his temperature, his breathing … things like that and please let me know if he has another accident. In a normal condition I'd suggest to bring him to a nearby hospital to get a more thorough examination, some … scan perhaps … but I don't think we have that luxury do we?"

"Demons may be after him and as hunters we're not exactly welcomed," Sam had said sheepishly, as he'd looked at the doctor from under his bangs.

"Yeah, I totally understand. You guys have been busy lately. Congratulations on making eight o'clock news. I think the feds are still looking for you," the doctor had said, waving Sam's discomfort away with a joke. Somehow it fell short and Sam had just smiled and chuckled a bit out of respect for the guy. He'd followed behind Bobby as the older man began to lead them out of the guest bedroom and into the living room downstairs. "I'll see what I can do but in the mean time I think we just need to keep an eye on him. I'll come back in two days with better equipment. You can give him a sponge bath once a day if you want. I think if he's urinating then he'll be sweating too and keep his bedding clean, changing his clothes regularly as well wouldn't hurt."

Sam had walked silently behind the other two men, occasionally nodding and listening intently to the doctor's orders. They'd seen the doctor to the door where he'd promised to return in a couple of days. He and Bobby had spent a couple more minutes talking about other things, maybe a hunt or something, but Sam hadn't really paid attention as he made a long list in his head of all the things that he needed to do to take care of Dean.

They decided to set up the upstairs guest room as a makeshift hospital room with Sam as the attending nurse. Like he would let any other people tend to his brother, anyway. Bobby thought it was part possessiveness and part guilt but Sam had just shrugged it off, refusing to dwell on it when he hadn't got to. He would rather spend his time and energy, besides playing nurse to a sleeping Dean, on finding the second part of the ritual. It would be easier this time with two heads working on the same case. Bobby had more connections than he and Dean did which wasn't surprising considering he'd been a hunter for far longer than either of them, even their father. Also the fact that Bobby had a communication network was a plus. Hunters came to him either to get more information or to update him, so he always knew more than anyone else.

"I got something!" the old bearded man announced one afternoon after Sam had finished giving Dean a sponge bath.

Sam had looked up and quickly squeezed the sponge under the running water before letting it dry on the hanger on the wall above the sink. Bobby emerged from the hallway clutching a brown envelope in his hand. Sam leaned on the kitchen counter with eyebrows raised in a silent gesture to tell him to go on with what he'd got.

"I managed to scrounge a favor from a friend of mine and told her about your problem," said Bobby. He'd pulled up one of the chairs before dropping the envelope on the table.

Sam had tensed when he'd heard that. "Not … about …"

"Noo… 'course not. You think I'm an idiot?" Bobby had groused at him. "Told her I was looking for a cure because some moron had decided to put his fiancé into a deep sleep, imitating Romeo and Juliet with the hope that he could wake her up later after her engagement to another wealthy ass was cancelled."

"What?" Sam had asked, a confused frown on his wide forehead. "What's this gotta do with Shakespeare?"

"What? You prefer I told her that some moron cursed his brother with a sleeping curse after he bound their souls together to avoid hell?" he'd asked defensively. He'd been snarky that day.

Sam had looked down guiltily, feeling like he should shuffle his feet or something. "Uh… no."

"Beggars can't be choosers. Just be glad that she agreed to help because she's into that romantic stuff."

"Fine, what did she say?"

"Not what she said but what she could get me." At Sam's raised eyebrows, he'd continued, "Are you familiar with the Endymion tale?"

Sam had frowned a bit as he'd racked his brain, (his terabytes of a hard disk for geek stuff, as Dean had called it,) for information about that Greek legend. He'd pulled out a chair and sat down in front of Bobby when his eyes cleared and a ding sounded inside his head. "The … uh … affair of the moon goddess Selene with a human guy called-"

"Endymion," finished Bobby with a nod. "You familiar with that?"

"Uh… I kinda stumbled on that when we were researching that case that jumped you in Pittsburg…" Sam had trailed off with a smirk as he'd remembered the case that managed to put Bobby in a hospital bed for a week.

"Woah… now, wait a minute, boy. It didn't jump me, he didn't jump me... I just got careless," Bobby said, indignant.

"…and then you got jumped. Yeah, don't worry Bobby we get it," Sam had assured him with a teasing grin. When Bobby glared at him and opened his mouth to say something, Sam beat him to it. "Well, while Dean went to interrogate the Doc's lab assistant, I did some research on the things that can put people into a coma or a deep sleep."

"And you stumbled on the curse," Bobby chimed in.

"Yeah, although, I quickly dismissed it when Dean called about the doc's experiments on the dream root. Never thought about it again until after I talked with the cherub."

"Do you know that the Endymion curse has a rather bleak background history?" asked Bobby.

"Sure! That's what drew me in, in the first place," admitted Sam casually. "But I got nothing on that lore because of the lack of a supporting manuscript. I doubt the curse even exists."

Bobby sent him a weird look before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't wanna know why you tend to gravitate upon the dark aspect of the lore to find solutions. Sometimes, I wonder what's wrong with you and that's not to say that your brother's any better. God knows how many times I sent that kid to clean up a mess just to have him end up dirty; Two peas in a pod, the both of you.

"Anyway, it turns out that my contact got a friend from Greece who is the descendant of an old pagan priest and has all of his ancestor's literature preserved in his family library," Bobby said as he opened the brown envelope and presented the contents on the table between them.

They were copies of several old scripts written in ancient Greek. Sam carefully lifted them up and examined the content. He shuffled a few of them as he recognized the wordings.

"This is … the first part of the spell," he said as he glanced briefly at Bobby. "Except, some of the wording is different." Then, he frowned when noticed a few more differences. "No, it's a different spell."

"It's the same spell."

"No, Bobby. You're wrong. This is not the spell. It's similar but not the same spell that I used," Sam had insisted as he put the scripts back on the table and pushed them towards Bobby.

"You know about the dark myth of Endymion? It's said that Zeus put the human Endymion to an eternal sleep to fulfill the wishes of the moon goddess Selene. Yet, according to this script, it was Selene who took Endymion's consciousness away then she asked Zeus to bind his soul to hers for eternity, because to make his body immortal without turning him into a god, the body must be rid of its soul."

When Sam acknowledged the myth with a nod, Bobby continued on. "There was supposed to be a spell for that kind of curse that was preserved by the priest of the temple of Selene as the Endymion curse and has become a strongly guarded secret of the priests ever since. But not only that; the spell came in two versions because one of the priests back then had attempted to alter the curse for his own gain.

"Now, the spell that you got from the archeologist was actually the variation of the original Endymion curse. It was a sleeping curse that literary separates the soul from the body and preserves the body in an eternal sleep. Some may say it was an immortality spell but I say it's bull! What good does it do you to spend your whole eternal life sleeping your ass off?" Bobby asked and Sam responded with a snort but his amusement was gone immediately when Bobby leveled him with a sad look.

"What?" asked Sam tersely.

"Sam, the original Endymion curse came in two parts. The first part is the actual cursing ritual and the second part is the reversing ritual. The goddess Selene provided the reversing spell in case one of her children wanted to free their father from his eternal sleep." Hope lit up on Sam's face but Bobby lifted up his index finger to shush him. "According to this lore, one of Selene's children used the curse to put a maiden into an eternal sleep in her chamber because she had spurned her several times. But, when she asked Zeus to bind her soul to her, the father of the gods had refused and that caused the maiden to die within a week. Sound familiar?"

Sam nodded in understanding. "The archeologist and his wife. But, I bet that was why the priest changed it. He must have put a binding element on the curse. Perhaps he did it so he could call his lover's soul back when he reversed the spell!" exclaimed Sam excitedly.

"When he gets around to reversing the spell," corrected Bobby causing confusion to appear on Sam's previously delighted face. "Sam, he was killed before he managed to reverse it, and the rest of the priests ordered the new version to be destroyed. Yet, apparently he kept a copy of it somewhere and someone must have found it and preserved it until it fell into the archeologist's hand. So, the reason why you can't find the second part of the curse is because it doesn't exist."

"Perhaps, he did not need it. There's still the second part of the original curse, the reversing spell. We can still rouse Dean using that spell," suggested Sam.

"Sure you want to chance it?" asked Bobby carefully. "The spell that you used had been tampered with and it's not the same spell as the original. Think it's gonna work?"

"Worth a try," said Sam with a shrug.

Bobby had looked at Sam for a minute longer, doubt clouding his eyes, but in the end he gave in to Sam's pleading. "Alright! I'll gather the ingredients. In the mean time, you study those spells; compare them for changes and differences. I'll see if I can contact an expert on this stuff." Bobby stood, leaving the copy of the original curse for Sam. "We'll get your brother back, Sam."

Sam had looked up as he reached for the papers and sent Bobby a grim smile. "Thanks Bobby. Knew I could count on you."

"Yeah, don't mention it. My life was dull, anyway. Shoulda kicked your daddy out first time he came here," muttered Bobby as he left the kitchen to go to his study.

"We love you too, Bobby!" Sam had shouted from the kitchen table, smiling fondly at his antics.

Bobby had just pushed the off button on his phone after he'd spent the last two minutes talking with Rufus when Sam had asked him. "What did he say?"

"Said he'll send us the rest of the ingredients within five days. Got to import some of them directly from Greece."

"Okay," Sam had said, nodding gratefully.

"You said the cherub told you that you share a bond with your brother?"

"A mark on each of our souls, yeah."

"Then, let's hope it's true," Bobby had said as he settled back on the chair next to his phone hub.

Both of them had continued their research in silence on the kitchen table, comparing the differences between the second version and the original curse. There were only a couple of elements that had been changed by the priest but Sam noted that they did not change the purpose of the curse. The only tricky part was the binding element but he was sure he'd got that part perfectly. Sam still remembered the feeling of awe and wonderment that surged inside him when Dean's soul followed him out of his body after he'd marked him with his blood. From the priest's incomplete notes, it stated that both souls must be deeply connected; either they were brother souls or soul mates, before the spell was cast, if not the soul of the one who was cursed would fly away and could never be retrieved. This was tricky because, like the cherub said, no one really knew except angels. Demons might know but they weren't inclined to let on were they? Sam was not really clear on where the soul would go if the binding spell had failed because the notes did not delve into detail on the matter.

Five days later found Sam, again, sat inside a pearly circle with Dean's body laid out unmoving in front of him. Witnessed by an agitated Bobby from outside the circle, he began to chant. The words flew freely and fluidly from his mouth. There was a clay bowl on his lap that he kept alight as one by one, he threw the ingredients into the fire. After each one he felt the pull in his gut became stronger and stronger until there was a white hot pain that stabbed him from the inside. Sam held on. Wind was rushing in Sam's ears and he vaguely heard Bobby shouting at him from outside the circle, probably noticing Sam's distress, but Sam could not stop now. He must finish the spell. The pull was strong. There was another powerful force that seemed to hinder his efforts to complete the spell that tugged in the opposite direction making his insides feel like they were getting ripped out of his body.

Bobby was getting frantic. He screamed for Sam from outside the circle but just like Lilith, he could not get in. The spell enclosed Sam and Dean inside its pearly circle until it was done or Sam gave up.

"No! I'm not giving up!"

Sam scooped up the last ingredient, the root of a moonflower, and threw it into the bowl. Then, the pull became twice as searing and painful and Sam could not help but scream before his vision turned dark.

When Dean first became aware of his surroundings, he was hanging from chains that were all round him, some of them on fire and seemed to go on forever, crisscrossing the realm. Sulfur reeked in the air. At times the fire reached him and burned him to a crisp. The pain. Oh, the pain. How could he describe it? It burned. On top of the constant reek of sulfur, he could also smell his own flesh turning to ashes. He felt his skin melting slowly, dripping onto the chains below him. He was always conscious, thus he screamed. He screamed and screamed until his vocal cords were burned out and he was still aware of the pain. He was healed in a blink of an eye before the same process began again. Unconsciousness would have been a mercy but he guessed there was no mercy in hell.

There was no up and no down in this realm everything jumbled together. For quite some time, no one bothered him. They left him there alone with the fire, listening to the cries of other tortured souls. He could hear them but never saw them. Sometimes, their voices were so close that it deafened him but he still could not see them. He screamed for help, screamed for Sam, just screamed. Then, the whispers started. At first, it was his name. It echoed around him, spoken with hatred, with joy, with sorrow, with malice and with lust. He cringed every time it was whispered in his ear or breathed on his face, his skin.

There was no one around him. He was still alone, strung up on chains in a bottomless realm. He tried hard to blank out his mind, not hear the whispers but they penetrated through his inadequate defenses. One of them sounded like his mother's voice, the others like his father, Sam, Bobby. He called out to them but of course no one answered.

"Please… please Mom! … Dad! You guys there? Please help me! … Saaaaaaaaamm!…"

He screamed and shouted until his voice was a mere whisper. He could only pant for breath, alone with only fear suffusing his mind. Then the shadows came. They were mostly shapeless, just black fog manifested from the ether around him. Hideous creatures with spikes, claws and horns protruding from the blackness of their ever changing shapes, breathing acid and sulfur whenever they said his name.

"Dean Winchesterrrrr….."

The creature rasped.

Sulfur suffocated him and the acid burned his lungs as the creature hovered above his face. It clawed his chest and stabbed his stomach with its spikes.

"Ours noooowww…"

Dean swore and heard the creature giggle gleefully. His vision was hazy with pain and he was too tired to scream. As the acid corroded his insides, his body spasmed uncontrollably, pulling the chains taut against his joints, popping them loose. The creature cackled.

One time, they stabbed hot iron from his neck up through his skull, melting his brain until it leaked out of his ears like white hot lava. He could not even scream. One of them who had razor sharp blades at the end of its tentacle-like appendages, cut his balls and penis off before shoving the blade into his anus, all the while purring endlessly as it wrapped its barbed elongated form around his naked body.

The louder Dean screamed, the tighter it constricted around him.

Dean snapped his eyes open and he found his body had been fixed. There was a creature chained right above him. Its shape was human and it was drenched in so much blood that some of it dripped onto him. After so long alone, finally he saw another human in this realm, this hell. He wondered what did the other human had done to that sent him to hell. He was not sure how long the creatures would leave him alone this time, so he took best advantage of their absence to get to know the other soul. What else could he do, anyway?

"Hey! Can you hear me?!"

The figure stayed still and silent, seemingly unaware of Dean chained just below them. Dean called again, louder this time and the figure jerked. Dean waited impatiently until they acknowledged him. Two white eyes looked down at him and Dean's blood ran cold. What kind of human soul had white eyes? They reminded him of Lilith's eyes and he could not help himself but breathed out in dread, "Lilith…"

"Now, now, Dean. I think it's time for me to introduce myself." The human-like figure that Dean quickly realized was another creature of hell, grinned down at him, white sharp teeth not unlike vampire's fangs shining from its bloody, faceless head. The creature fell down slowly, draping its bloodied form on top of Dean's, its chains looped around both of them creating a cage.

"Name's Alistair. How d'you do?"

The blood smelt putrid and rank making Dean's nose twitch in discomfort. After the acid and sulfur, Dean was surprised that the smell of blood still bothered him. It seemed the creature noticed for it smiled wider, white sharp teeth elongated further, zigzagging against each other.

"It's your blood," whispered the thing in Dean's ear. "D'you know why it smells that way? The bigger your sin the ranker it smells. And those sinful thoughts about your brother? Oohhh, so delicious." The creature crooned in Dean's ear as it licked Dean's earlobe with its enormous rough tongue.

Alistair was a blood lust demon. It lived on the misery and suffering of souls in hell. Dean suspected that its form was made of blood, the blood of souls that it had tortured. It was a torture master and an artist. It sat on Dean's stomach and carved open his chest to eat his heart and liver, dipped its clawed hands into the cavern on his stomach to drink his blood, whilst Dean screamed in pain.

"Soooooo preeeeeeettttyyyyy…." Alistair keened; dragging its sharp nails along the side of Dean's face flaying it open. It had sliced him up, ate his meat and bathed in his blood until he was left with only bones and skull.

"D'you know that nobody likes you here?" asked the creature as it licked its too long and sticky tongue on Dean's sternum and collarbone, collecting scraps meat and blood still attached to the bones. "Azazel, Lilith, they hate you. Only I love you. You'll be my masterpiece, my greatest pupil. Say yes, Dean."

"Shove it … and kiss … my ass!" spat Dean between his pants. His voice was hoarse as he struggled to make a sound with his torn vocal cords.

Alistair laughed. "I love your stubbornness."

Dean knew its game. Ever since it first came to torture him it had made him an offer. Dean could get off the rack just as long as he agreed to Alistair's offer and do his biding, torturing souls instead of getting tortured, but he could not do it. He could not do it while he knew Sam was out there trying to find a way to get him out. Sam had promised to get him out and Dean believed him. Sam did something before he died. Dean did not know what it was but he still had hope that whatever done would free him someday. Dean just had to hold on.

Alistair knew. It knew what Dean was thinking and the demon despised it. It worked its damnedest to bleed Sam out of Dean's mind.

"Saaaaaammmm?" the demon sneered. Dean was not sure how the demon was capable of it, what with the size of its teeth and tongue but it sneered. "We already had plans for him, don't you worry. He wouldn't have time for you. He'd be glad to be rid of you, Dean. Good for nothing big brother who always embarrasses him, humiliates him, drags him away from living a normal life. Only I love you, Deano. Only I …"

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	4. Third Level: Prepare the wand

**Thank you for my Beta**: dear_tiger and jonjokeat. And for everyone who follows and reviews. Thank you Grim1989 :-D

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**Third Level: Prepare the wand.**

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When Sam came to, he was being laid up on the worn couch in the living room with his head pounding and his insides raw as if someone had cut out his heart and lungs and scrubbed them with salt water before putting them back inside. His right hand grappled for the back of the couch as he struggled to sit up while his left palmed his chest in a soothing motion. Bobby was nowhere to be found but it was not like Sam spent time looking for him, because his attention was soon occupied by the still body slumped on a mattress next to the high pile of books not too far from the couch.

Sam pulled himself off the couch and fell unceremoniously down onto the floor with a loud thud. Then, he half crawled, half dragged his ass to Dean's side, his body devoid of energy. He felt tired right to the marrow. He hovered over the motionless body of his brother. Hope and fear warred for dominance inside his heart as he did nothing but stare.

Dean looked peaceful, or as peaceful as he could be considering that he was cursed to sleep for eternity. The revelation that the curse was not a mere bonding curse but a variation of a sleeping curse, a dangerous sleeping curse, had shaken Sam's confidence to see it to the end. At the time, Sam did not think much beyond getting Dean's soul to safety after he was dragged to hell. The crossroad demons knew how to do their job right. They had done it for centuries and had trapped the cleverest and smartest human being in history. Their contract was flawless with not even a needle sized loophole, Sam knew. So, instead of screwing himself over the content of the contract, Sam thought about the terms outside of the contract.

Basically, the contract would be met exactly a year after Dean made the deal and it ended, must end when Dean went to hell. Not a day before, not a day after. As much as Sam loathed them, punctuality was crucial to demons. That was the only thing that could be relied upon with these lying, scheming bastards. Dean would die right at the exact time as the contract dictated. Then, the contract would be met and declared null. Dean would be free to do anything as long as it did not jeopardize the contract, in the other words, as long as Dean went to hell, or Sam would drop dead in an instant. But one thing about Demons that Sam knew, only too well, was that they were a bunch of arrogant bastards.

For most people, hell was an abstract concept at most and many did not believe in it at all but Sam knew hell existed because that was where demons came from. A creature so vile and so evil that Sam could only shudder to imagine how bad the place must be. Yet, still, no human ever graced hell except for the dead and that was where the contract ended. It ended when Dean died. No terms were stated for after his death because demons were confident that no human could ever enter hell and leave again as they pleased. This was Sam's playground. He could do anything short of summoning an angel to pull Dean out of hell and the demons would do nothing except getting pissed. Yes, Sam believed in angels. What was not to believe, he had met one hadn't he? He was sure there were more powerful angels beside the cherub he summoned few months back. It was only natural that when there was evil in the world, there would be good too. There had to be.

If only the curse would work.

Saying that Sam had been under a lot of pressure was a huge understatement. In those last few weeks before Dean had gone to hell, Sam had spent the time being short with his brother; always snapping and lashing out at him for no apparent reason. To make matters worse, Dean would not rise to the bait. He would only look at Sam with sad, forlorn eyes that cut Sam deeply, before saying sorry and leaving the room. Sam had known that Dean wanted to spend time with him, to make the last moments of his life memorable but Sam just could not do it. He couldn't wrap the idea of Dean going to hell around his head let alone accept it. Moreover he'd been busy fretting over the curse.

It was a binding curse, Sam had known that. There were many pointers that showed the characteristics of a binding ritual but it was also incomplete. Sam had known that too. The spell should have been more detailed about rousing the victim from the spell induced sleep. Yet, there was nothing in the script that said when and how it should be done. Sam had even contacted the archeologist's wife and his colleagues for the original script and asked them if there was more information but none of them had given him a satisfactory answer. It was not until after they had Bobby's findings that they finally learned the curse was never meant to be finished.

Sam had been pressed for time. Lilith was getting close, too close on their heels and he had no other choice but to perform the ritual right away before one of her hell hounds could rip Dean to shreds. No one escaped hell hounds.

"Dean…"

Sam's voice was soft almost afraid. He scrutinized his brother's face for any sign of awareness, of any sign that the spell had worked.

"Dean…"

His hand hovered above Dean's face, feeling the soft movement of his breath. At least he was alive.

"Dean?" Sam hesitantly touched his palm to Dean's left cheek, shaking him a little. "Dean?!" But however many times and however hard he shook him, Dean remained still and unresponsive. It was not long before Sam was screaming above his brother's face, pleading for him to wake up.

The reversing spell was his last hope. Between cursing Dean for the first time and finding the reversing spell, not even once Sam lost hope. He had always been calm and reasonable, engaging Bobby in intellectual discussion and even when Bobby had reprimanded him, he'd taken it in his stride. Now, it was as if all hope had gone. He knew they had nothing besides the reversing spell and even then, as Bobby said, it did not guarantee success.

Sam screamed and cried until his voice became hoarse and his nose filled with snot. He didn't even register when Bobby came home and dragged his six foot four inches of a body across the room to the couch where he curled his trembling body on the floor. He thought he'd heard Bobby say something but he couldn't make out what it was because his ears were ringing and his mind was filled with hopeless denial over his brother's state. In the end, Bobby left him alone.

Sam was barely aware of what happened in the next days. He vaguely remembered helping Bobby take Dean's body upstairs but the rest of it was a blur. Sam spent the next month drinking and moping around the house. He even stopped taking care of Dean and leaving it all off to Bobby. Not that there were many things to do as it turned out, Dean's body did not need any food to stay alive, the spell had taken care of it. After the first accident that he had, it seemed as though the digestive system of his body had come to a halt. While his heartbeat stayed at the same speed and his breathing stayed normal, his body needed no sustenance. Bobby thought it was a side effect of the second version of the curse. The original curse was an eternal sleeping curse that put the victim into an immortal slumber. It was a neat curse; Bobby said and allowed him to concentrate on working on the counter curse without being bothered by Dean's care.

Of course, it was not as easy for Sam.

Every second he felt the pull, he was always reminded of his failure. It was worse because the pull seemed to be a fraction stronger than a month ago. There were no more leads and no sign that Dean had been saved from hell. Surely, if the spell had been successful Dean would be awake by now. Sam had probably botched the first curse. Instead of anchoring Dean's soul, he had probably got him lost somewhere in hell. Retrieving him would definitely be harder now. So, he tried hard to numb the feeling by drinking.

"How much longer you're gonna mope around like that?" asked Bobby one day when he'd finally got fed up with Sam's grumpiness and unproductiveness. "It's not gonna help Dean much, you know?"

"Does anything?" retorted Sam apathetically.

He was slumped down on the couch nursing a bottle of Jack, the second one that day. Bobby let out an annoyed sigh.

"I can't deal with you right now, Sam. I'm knee deep in research for a case and with your brother's case as well I believe I've overworked my brain and soon it'll leak out of my ears, but if you decide not to help me with it then you better make yourself useful elsewhere."

"You throwing me out, Bobby?" Sam's head was lolling left and right.

"I'm trying to stop you from getting alcohol poisoning. Now, get up from that couch, get sober and I want you out of here by tomorrow afternoon!"

"You sending me to hunt alone?" asked Sam, squinting his eyes at the spot where he thought Bobby's voice had come from.

"It's a simple salt and burn. Nothing you can't handle."

That was why Sam found himself in the middle of a graveyard, in the dead of night, somewhere in Indiana, standing in front of the newly turned grave of a sixteen year old girl who had haunted her former best friend for stealing her boyfriend. The smell of burnt ashes had invaded his nostril and the smoke had burned his eyes but Sam stood there silently. His mind flew back to two years ago when he and Dean had had to burn their father's body. Deep in his heart, he was grateful that he hadn't had to burn Dean's but what good that was compared to his state right now? There was a high chance that he would be like that forever, cursed in an eternal sleep. Like Endymion. Like sleeping beauty. It would be nice if Dean could be woken up with a kiss like in the children's story.

Wait a minute. A kiss.

Sam blinked once, then, again twice, before he hurriedly shoveled down dirt into the still burning grave, dousing the flame. He covered the grave in record time before scooping up his shovel, salt container and fuel can and dumping them unceremoniously into the Impala's truck before quickly jumping behind the wheel and gunning it to the motel.

Sam burst through his motel room door leaving it open as he made a mad dash around the room, gathering his clothes and meager belongings. He'd got careless in his haste had forgotten to re-salt the door. Two demons came barreling through, catching Sam off guard and beating him near senseless. Sam had fought back but the strength of two demons plus the element of surprise clearly hadn't benefitted him. Soon, he was sent sprawling across the floor with one of the demons holding his wrists behind his back and yanking his hair up.

A black haired guy with pale skin entered Sam's blurry line of vision. His pit black eyes blinking mockingly at him as his lips sneered in disgust.

"Sam Winchester!" he tutted. "You're a pain in every demon's ass."

The demon stepped aside to grope around Sam's waist band and steal the demon killing knife from him.

"Thanks for keeping this warm for me, Sam."

"Ruby!" grunted Sam surprised.

The other demon that had held Sam on the floor yanked him up until he was kneeling, hands still bound, in front of Ruby, throat exposed.

Ruby was wearing a male meat-suit this time.

"Hello, Sam. Nice to see you again! Let's have a little talk, shall we!"

"What's with the change of clothes? Thought you were rotting in hell," Sam spat at Ruby. He was less enthused to see her, er… him, now. He knew what Ruby wanted but he didn't think he could do it. He refused to do it because that had been Dean's last warning to him; not to use his psychic ability anymore.

"Now, now, Sam. No need to get rude. Lilith sends a message." Ruby slipped close to whisper in his ear, "she wants you to surrender as her bitch or I have to kill you."

When he stepped back, Ruby's smirk looked disturbing. Sam gritted his teeth, glaring at the demon with loathing.

"She can kiss my ass!"

Ruby's smirk got dirtier as he purred, "As you wish."

Sam did not close his eyes when Ruby lifted up his knife. Instead, he looked down at him with contempt and hatred poured in abandon from his eyes. He was ready to die. He was flabbergasted when Ruby stabbed his knife through the other demon's neck behind Sam, nicking the right side of his neck as a result. Sam stood stunned as he looked down at the demon on the floor, dead. He turned questioning eyes towards Ruby.

"What? You think I'll really kill you?" retorted the demon with a lazy shrug. "Get your keys! We gotta go!"

Ruby left Sam a little bewildered alone in the room, gesturing to him to hurry up while he stood guard at the door. Sam hurriedly grabbed his bag and locked the door behind him. Hopefully, no one would find the body before he was at least a state away from there. They took the back stairs that led to an alley behind the motel, closer to where he'd parked the Impala. He glanced towards Ruby several times during their flight. It was odd to see 'her' in a male meat-suit now. Apparently, demons really were not picky when choosing their meat suit as he was almost certain that Ruby was a girl.

"Like what you see?"

Ruby's voice startled him. Sam caught him sending a playful smirk at him.

"I guess you're not picky in choosing who you wear."

"What? Don't you like it?" teased Ruby with a wink.

The look that Ruby had sent him chilled Sam's bones right down to its marrow. It was so lustful that he had to wonder if this really was Ruby. There certainly a blatant come on in that look that somehow rubbed Sam the wrong way. Not that the meat suit that Ruby had picked for his latest incursion top side was ugly. It wasn't. The guy had been handsome, average height, but still shorter than Sam by about five inches, dark hair, pale complexion, bright green eyes and thick red lips. If Sam had a tendency to swing that way he might have had to call him hot. Sure, he'd always been curious especially because a few of his close friends at college had been gay but Sam was always a shy kid. There was a reason why Dean always called him a prude.

Speaking of Dean…

"I guess I owe you one this time but let's just call it square and go our separate ways," Sam suggested, walking faster and passing him. The pull in his chest had become increasingly strong since Ruby had showed up.

"Wait! We have to stick together. Demons are looking for me right now. I'm a fugitive now, Sam."

"Good luck, then."

"Sam!" Ruby caught his arm and whirled him around, pushing his back to the hard cold concrete of the back alley. "Listen, I risked my neck to save you. The least you can do is say thank you and since now most demons are going to be gunning for my ass don't you think it's for our best interests to help each other?" proposed Ruby as he crowded Sam. "I can help you kill Lilith. I have few tricks up my sleeve but I need your psychic power."

Sam regarded him silently. It was the same thing that Ruby had said almost a year ago, that they could beat Lilith by using his powers. Sam felt a stir of anger swirling low down in the pit of his stomach. The smell of revenge was so sweet he could almost taste it but there was another feeling stirring inside him. A tug that dragged him, called to him, urged him to go somewhere, to do something. It was the feeling that he'd always felt ever since he'd cursed Dean to sleep and had put a stronger, more permanent mark on his soul.

He frowned at Ruby's determined upturned face and a question sprang to his mind.

"How did you get out?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"What d'you mean?" Ruby blinked, looking somewhat hesitant.

"You got caught red handed helping us. I don't think Lilith just let you go that easily," Sam stated calmly. He stared down at the shorter man with a calculating look. There was something that did not add up here.

"You think it was easy? Even for hell, it was nasty. I was tortured in every way for every second I spent there." Ruby stepped closer to Sam pinning him to the rough wall of the alley. "You can't imagine what I've been through, Sam, what I had to do to gain Lilith's trust again. Imagine my relief when she gave me one last chance to go top side. Just to kill you," said Ruby with unveiled annoyance in his eyes.

Sam regarded him coldly, calculating his words and the truth behind them, staring into Ruby's pale face, trying to tell if he was lying. "The question is why did she let you out at all?" Sam wondered loudly, enough to put a slight tick to Ruby's calm and controlled expression. "From what I know demons are not particularly forgiving creatures and I know for a fact that you're nothing special. She could've easily replaced you with stronger demon to do the job. Unless, there's something that you're not telling me?" He baited. There, he'd put his doubt in the open. It was a reckless move but if there was one thing that Dean had taught him it was 'If the enemy thinks you're being reckless then they'll probably lower their guard. We just have to know when to catch them at it'.

"I managed to gain your trust, didn't I? That's way farther than any other demons can hope to achieve. That's my leverage. She knows she can use me. She knows I can use your trust so I can kill you."

"But she also knows that you can betray her again. Why take chances? I wouldn't." Sam pushed Ruby off him and turned to leave. He'd only taken a few steps before Ruby told him the big news, well, shouted it at him actually.

"Dean's gone from hell!"

That stopped Sam in his tracks. It was the best thing he'd heard for a month. Since he'd thought the reversing spell had failed and he'd sunk into an aching depression he'd tried to drown in whiskey. It sounded like a dream that was too good to be true. Dean was gone from hell!

"Is that true?"

Sam whirled around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Hope and elation leaked from through his tone and expression as his eyes zeroed in on Ruby. The demon shrugged his shoulders.

"You didn't know?" Now, it was the demon's turn to frown. "That's one of the reasons why Lilith is so pissed right now. She'll do everything to get Dean back. She sent all of her demons to hunt Dean down, even let me top side to get information from you. She thinks you probably had a hand in it."

"Whatever she thinks I did, this is the first I've heard," said Sam. He walked back to where Ruby stood near the wall. He stopped, towering over him, voice cold as ice when he demanded. "You have to tell me all about it!"

"No one is strong enough to spring a soul from hell, Sam. At least, no one that I know," Ruby said dispassionately as if he did not really care. Sam thought, perhaps, he really did not. Ruby never really cared about what happened to Dean.

"And she thinks I can?"

"I don't know. You tell me," said Ruby as he leaned back against the wall. His posture relaxed and at ease with both hands buried inside his jeans. Yet, there was challenge in his voice and he looked too smug for Sam's liking. Sam's suspicions escalated.

"What d'you get out of all this?"

"What-"

"Why d'you so desperately wanna know if I am the one who sprung Dean out of hell? If I did, what makes you think that I'd tell you? I wouldn't need you, anyway."

Ruby raised one eyebrow. "Does that mean you didn't?"

"Why d'you care?" Sam hissed at him.

Ruby's features turned cold and furious. He stepped closer and leaned his face near Sam's, as close as his height could afford him, he whispered. "If you did, then you're in more danger than he ever before because Lilith never loses a soul from hell. I can help-"

"Help me with what?!" snapped Sam aggressively. "You couldn't save Dean. All the shit you spewed at me last year was all bullshit. You never intended to save Dean because no one can but you strung me along, made me believe that you somehow have a wicked trick to help my brother. It was all just a trick wasn't it?" Sam stepped back two paces, regarding Ruby hardheartedly. There was uneasiness inside his heart that pulled him away from there. The pain that was not unlike the one he'd felt when he was doing the ritual for the reversing spell.

"I've never known the real reason why you help us. Why you went out of your way to gain my trust. In the end, I have no real use for you except for the demon slicing knife."

"I told you before. I can help you to bring down Lilith. I wanna be on your side-"

"Yeah, whenever I win this stupid war and become king of hell. I've heard." Sam nodded couple of times. "But, you know what? I don't care. I don't care about your war. I don't care about the world. If it gonna cost me my brother, then let it end. I've lost so much I feel numb. I don't wanna feel that pain again."

"But Sam…"

"Go away, Ruby!" Sam shouted, turning his back towards the demon as he left the alley.

Yet, Ruby was unrelenting. He was determined to follow Sam, to make him see things his way. Sam had to threaten him with exorcism before he fled, leaving his host to drop to the ground like a rag doll. After checking that the body still had a pulse, Sam quickly snatched Ruby's knife and left as the guy was starting to wake up.

.

.

"Are you sure?" Bobby pressed him.

"Depends if you trust Ruby's words or not," answered Sam truthfully.

Bobby sent him a look before grunting and thumping down the living room into the kitchen to make a call. "Guess we'll just have to make sure for our self."

Bobby's network of hunters was impressive. He knew lots of hunters that Sam and Dean had never heard of. He also had connections with lots of other people who were not hunters but still involved in the hunting world. Specialists and the like. He had also sent word out there was a soul missing from hell. It was not until three days later, three too–fucking-long days according to Sam, that they got a word from Rufus Turner.

Rufus was a hunter, a damn good one, Bobby said but something had happened a few years back that had forced him to retire and live like a hermit. The man was even more paranoid than Bobby, Dean had said, but he was useful. Rufus had called Bobby, informing him, shouting at him more like, poor old man, that the demons that had broken into his house and jumped him were looking for one Dean Winchester. They'd thought that just because Dean had visited him once that he would automatically know where his soul had gone. Bobby trusted Rufus. Even when things seemed to be a bit on the cold side between them, Bobby trusted him and that was enough for Sam.

So, it was true then. Dean was gone from hell. Somehow, through some miracle, the spell worked. Sam just did not know where to look for Dean's soul now that he was out of hell. He did not know how to call to him let alone how to put him back in his body and wake him. Sometimes, Sam wondered if the Winchester life was cursed.

Then, Bobby got a good idea. He told Sam one morning that they could try the trick Sam did two years ago when Dean was laid up comatose on a hospital bed. They could try the Ouija board to see if Dean's soul was with them.

"You think Dean's here?" questioned Sam with a little too much hope in his voice. He skimmed the living room with a glance, hoping to get a glimpse or a feeling of Dean being near them.

"You boys don't have a permanent home. My best guess is, if Dean does roam the earth as a lost soul, he'll be here because we all know Dean will look for you."

"Yeah, good idea Bobby. So, when do we start?"

Sam left Bobby rummaging in his basement for an Ouija board, that he swore he'd put there many years ago. He went up to Dean's room, itching to test the theory that he'd had before he was rudely interrupted by Ruby and his demon lackey. It sounded silly the more he thought about it. A kiss. Could it be that simple? Standing tentatively next to his brother's unmoving body; Sam took a couple of deep breaths, strengthening his resolve. He slowly knelt on the floor, his body swaying back and forth in hesitation before he closed his eyes and dived in for the prize.

It was brief, but during those few seconds Sam learned and catalogued a couple of new facts about his brother. He learned that Dean's lips were soft and they tasted like cantaloupe. As much as Sam's curiosity tried to persuade him to linger a bit longer just to find out more about his brother's delectable lips, his conscience reared its head reminding him of the morality value of his actions. Sam jerked his head back, mortified but could not help himself licking his own lips savoring Dean's taste.

For a few tense moments, Sam stayed rooted to his spot. During those thrilling moments of hopeless anticipation, Dean lay still. No twitch, no tick, nothing. Sam visibly deflated as a lungful of breath that he had unconsciously held, escaped his down turned lips. Another hope dashed, Sam was back to square one.

An hour later, Bobby bounded up the stairs, as fast as his cracking old bones allowed him, lifting a battered and stained Ouija board up in victory. He quickly laid the board on the floor and ushered Sam into position. They spent the better part of two hours calling Dean's soul, just like Sam did two years ago… and failed spectacularly. Of course, Sam should have known that it would not be that easy. Even when Bobby suggested doing it outside the house just in case Dean's soul was banned from entering because of the protection sigils, Sam was still skeptical. He was right, the pointer did not move even a millimeter when they tried it out in the middle of the scrap yard.

.

.

Sam sat gingerly on a high backed chair, fiddling with Dean's bull horned amulet as he shot an anxious look at Bobby. A pentagram tablecloth clad the round table between them. A beautiful woman with dark hair and tanned skin was crouching down in front of an open travel bag behind Sam's chair. After a few seconds rummaging inside the blue canvas bag, she stood back with an armload of big candles. Kicking the bag away with the heel of her boot, she sauntered to the table and proceeded to arrange the candle in the middle of the pentagram before taking a seat on one of the two empty chairs left beside Sam. She lit the candles in a sequence that followed the pattern of pentagram before taking a couple of deep breaths as she closed her eyes, touching her fingers on her temples.

"Right," said the woman after she emerged from her brief meditation. "Take each other's hands to form a circle. No matter what happens I implore you, Do. Not. Let go of the hands."

Sam looked at Bobby questioningly and saw as the older man shrugged before offering his hands on the table. Sam had no choice but to trust Bobby and grasped his right hand with his left.

As a last effort to find out if Dean's soul was really out of hell and roaming the earth, Bobby had invited a sassy psychic named Pamela to try to contact him. The best damn psychic in the state according to him. Pamela had informed Bobby that she had Ouija-ed her way into contact with dozens of spirits but none of them seemed to know for sure what had happened to Dean's soul. Through the spirit grapevines, there were rumors that his soul was yanked out of hell by some force but no one could confirm it since they'd never met his soul on earth. Thus, here they were now, gathering in Bobby's living room to perform a séance so Pamela could take a peek into the spirit world and perhaps, if they were lucky, draw Dean's lost soul to them. Sam refrained from expecting too much from this.

"May I borrow that, please," asked Pamela gesturing to the amulet. Sam reluctantly gave the pendant to her, slowly lowering it onto her outstretched open palm.

"I'll return it to you when it's over," she assured him as if sensing his hesitation. She smiled indulgently at him waiting until she got his nod of approval before looping the necklace around her wrist twice, putting the amulet right in the middle of her palm, holding it tight. Then she directed Sam to place his right hand on top of hers and held Bobby's left one.

Closing her eyes for the second time, the pretty psychic started chanting. Her tranquil voice filled the room creating a chilling atmosphere.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke … is that you, Dean?"

"Dean?!" gasped Sam snapping his eyes open looking frantically around the room.

"Someone's here but …"

Pamela kept her eyes closed as she struggled to grasp the new entity that had entered the room with her mind's eye.

"Is he here? I don't see him!" Sam complained with distress as he failed to see his brother.

"If you're Dean, I command you to show yourself!"

The light above the table started to flicker and wind suddenly blew around them, knocking Bobby's pile of books over the table and sending papers swirling madly in the air, buffeting around them.

"Dean! Are you here?!" shouted Sam anxiously. "Dean!"

"Relax Sam, I almost got it!"

"Why doesn't he show up?"

"I command you Dean Winchester to show yourself!"

"Where are you boy?" grunted Bobby.

"Dean!"

"Show yourself, now!"

The candles exploded and the room was plunged in sudden darkness and shards of glass fell to the floor.

Next time he'd become aware, Dean had found himself hovering in a void. He was numb and all around him was darkness. He could not even hear his own voice, could not see his own limbs. He thought this was Alistair's newest torture but nothing and no one came at him. Dean did not know how long he'd spent in the void until he started to forget things, starting with his name, his parents' names, his life but he tried hard to remember Sam. Until Sam had no meaning, just a three letter of word. Then, there was light coming from nowhere and the next second he was stood in the middle of a room behind a shaggy haired man who sat on a high backed chair in front of two other people sitting around a table.

He who remembered Sam looked around the room in wonderment. The abruptness of the change of scenery sent his spectral mind staggering. His senses were blasted by the onslaught of smells, sights and sounds after he'd spent for so long being numbed by the void. He drifted away from the room, ignoring the screaming woman at the table and went to explore the quieter parts of the house. There were many interesting things to look at. Warm feelings flooded his senses as he wandered through the other rooms looking at things and he felt a little bit overwhelmed by it. Something about this house and everything inside it felt familiar to him. His curiosity was peaked when he found a prone body on the bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms. He spent some time studying it, poking it with his transparent fingers before he realized that he could not touch it. He was disappointed and quickly grew bored and wandered back to stand behind the shaggy haired guy who was now joining the woman's shouting with his own distressed voice. Somehow, he'd been compelled to return to this room without meaning to. He paid them no mind until the woman in the room called the other guy 'Sam'.

He who remembered Sam perked up when he heard the word and he began to study the guy who was called Sam, intently. This guy had longish dark hair that was the same color as the sitting tool. He had a pointy nose and eye color that changed under the glow of fire. There was a dot of black beside his pointy nose. He also had two patches of hollowed skin on each side of his face that looked rather nice whenever he showed his teeth. He decided he liked this guy who was named Sam and curiously watched his every move. He seemed anxious and frantic right now.

A powerful force surged through he who remembered Sam. It felt like his very core was ripped apart and he was pulled in two different directions. The pain was so unbearable that he decided to let go of his awareness and stumbled back into the void.

"Everyone alright?" asked Bobby, putting a gas lamp on the table after retrieving it from under his desk.

"Yeah, nothing but a couple of cuts here and there," answered Pamela as she checked herself over. Sam rose from the table to get the med kit.

"What was that?" asked Sam curiously from the across the room where Bobby stored the med kit on two shelves of a cabinet.

"That was… weird, I must say," said Pamela slowly, as she appeared to collect her thoughts.

"Weird how?" asked Bobby, voicing Sam's thought.

"Well, there was something or rather someone hovering in the room…"

"Dean?" asked Sam hopefully.

"… nnn..not sure," answered Pamela carefully, a slight frown marred her pretty face. "It did not react when I called him by his name. Could have been Dean, could've been another spirit, but one thing's for sure he was drawn here. Then, when I forced him to show himself, there were two warring forces that worked against each other for a few seconds, centering on this spirit, before everything went dark." Pamela looked into each of their eyes in turn, solemnly said, "and then it was gone."

The séance with Pamela hadn't really shed much light on the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Dean's soul from hell, which Sam skeptically thought it might. They had run out of ways to summon Dean's soul or even just to make sure that Dean's soul was somewhere on earth but one thing was for sure, the demons were furious. Almost every day, Bobby received a call from hunters informing him that demons were recklessly possessing people looking for information about Dean's whereabouts. It was clear that Lilith was furious about losing Dean and that was enough to make Sam want to get away and stay somewhere secluded with Dean. At least, until he could find a way to reverse the curse and rouse Dean from his spell induced eternal slumber.

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Please review even for only saying that it's bad... :-D


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